Peace
by BlueMeansILoveYou
Summary: Tara isn't sure how to feel. She merely knows that her best shot at finding the answer is by looking into the bottom of a glass. Rated M for sexual content and language.


**This is just a tiny little oneshot for me to deal with my Tara feelings. It's Tara-centric, but features minor Tara x Beth, so if that's not your thing, you have been warned. Enjoy, lovelies!**

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><p>Tara sighed with every move she made, her body aching with every step. The gravel crunched beneath her feet, echoing through the empty silence of her vacant mind. She stopped at her bike, eyeing the black Honda Rebel with heavy lids. Something told her she would definitely not going to be riding it home later, but she could not afford two cab rides in a single night.<p>

She threw her leg over it and kicked the engine alive. It roared beneath her, the body shaking slightly beneath her. It felt familiar; comforting. She backed it out the driveway and threw a long towards her apartment window. The curtains were drawn. She took off down the road with little to no thoughts in her head. All she wondered, was when she would return to her home, and whether the sight of flowers would forever make her stomach churn.

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><p>The bar was dark as always. The floor creaked quietly and the door squeaked on its hinges. The bartender, Bob, looked briefly at her and grinned. She didn't grin back. She made her way to the bar and sat down on one of the greasy wooden bar stools in complete silence, looking around the other occupants of the bar. No one stood out.<p>

After ordering a whiskey and informing Bob that he might as well keep them coming, she finally allowed her mind to wander.

Her thoughts immediately went to the night before. She had been in the middle of unlocking her door when a giggle came from the other side. Brushing it off to be her girlfriend, Rose, just laughing at some ridiculous video of a kitten or something similar, she had proceeded without thought. The sight that met her wasn't quite as innocent as kittens.

Rose was on her knees in front of a man that Tara recognized as the local florist. His pants were at his ankles and his dick was buried somewhere in her sweet, sweet Rose's mouth. The scene was interrupted as all three heard the door click shut behind her. Rose immediately took him out of her mouth with a pop that made Tara feel sick to her stomach.

"You fucking bitch," she growled, body rigid with anger, "in my own fucking apartment? How long? How long have you been screwing this piece of shit?"

Rose was obviously more than a little drunk as her eyes swam while she tried to comprehend the situation. She slowly stood up, stumbling pathetically.

"Uh, hey, Tara. You're home early."

"I'm home at my usual time, actually. Maybe you'd know if you looked at my schedule instead of looking at that pig's junk," Tara snapped. She wasn't sure what was happening, but she knew she was angry.

Meanwhile, the florist was picking up his pants, sending a pathetic excuse of a regretful look towards Tara.

"How long?" Tara repeated, squeezing her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. They threatened to push through, like a river pushing at a fragile dam.

"About a year and a half," Rose finally answered, her voice surprisingly steady, "I'm so sorry Tara. But please don't blame Chris, it was all my idea. He wanted to tell you."

So that was his name. Tara looked at Chris, who had stepped behind Rose in a almost hilarious attempt to shield himself from her wrath. He was nodding his head eagerly, and Tara was reminded of every time she had purchased flowers from him. She would ask him if he thought Rose would like her purchase, and he'd nod that exact way. It seemed sincere enough, so she believed that he felt bad. Rose was another story.

"I'm not mad at that prick. I'm mad at you," she tried to explain, having calmed down slightly, "one and a half year out of our two year relationship? That's a long fucking time to be sleeping around."

"Tara, baby-"

"Don't you dare call me that. You lost the right the minute you popped that fuckers dick in your mouth! You kissed me with that mouth! Y-You told me you loved me with that mouth."

Her anger had died out. It was replaced by a deep-seeded hurt. And disappointment.

"I'm done. You guys can get the fuck out, and I hope to never see you again."

They had left immediately, Chris muttering apology after apology, Rose with head hung low, but no tears to be seen.

She downed another whisky. She wasn't even angry. Sure, she had loved Rose, but that was a long time ago. So now she was just looking to drink her sorrows away, maybe have a dance or two, and hopefully, she'd get some action. She heard that was a good cure for anything.

What bothered her the most was to know exactly what Rose and Chris would be doing right about now. What did she see in him? He was a pretty nice guy, Tara couldn't deny that, but he wasn't that charming, handsome or wealthy. He had to be really good in bed. Rose used to tell Tara she was. Maybe she imagined Chris every time they made love. Made she imagined him every time they exchanged 'I love you's.' She downed another whisky at the thought and smiled mutely at Bob when he gave her a refill, his worried eyes examining her ragged appearance.

Til yesterday Tara had forgotten just how thin the line between love and hate was. Somewhere in her heart she knew that her and Rose would have never worked out. That's why they had never moved in together. Tara refused. But she wasn't angry at Rose either. She had said she was, but that was only because it would seem weird otherwise. If it didn't get her at least a little pissed, she'd probably be considered heartless. Maybe she was. She didn't want to be angry, that would help nothing.

It didn't bother her that she had been cheating on her with a guy either. She knew from the start that Rose was bisexual and she did always seem a bit too into strap-ons.

She'd go as far as to say that she understood Rose's decision. Tara was almost never home during the day. She was busy at the police station. Her job had always been her first priority. That meant countless lonely nights for Rose. And Tara tried her best to balance it, and to apologize, but a dozen roses only went so far. So she made a deal with herself to be at peace with the whole situation.

She could use some pizza and maybe a shower. She knew that if she drank a little more, she'd forget all about Rose, and if she remembered, she wouldn't care. That's what she thought as she finally raised her eyes from the swirling liquid in her glass. The bar had gotten quite busy while she had been caught up inside her bubble.

Her eyes met brigt blue eyes across the bar. A blonde was smiling sweetly at her, an innocent sexiness to her appearance. Beside her was an asian fellow and a brunette, whom he had his arm thrown across. The blonde gave a sly nod towards the back door and then whispered something to the brunette before leaving. Tara smirked, standing up to follow.

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><p>Teeth clashed, nails scratched and tongues intertwined. Moans echoed through the silent alley. Tara forced herself off of the other woman's lips, taking pleasure in the whimper it caused.<p>

"I'm Tara," she panted, struggling for air. Half an hour of violently making out with a stranger would do that to you.

The blonde smiled.

"Beth. Pleasure to meet you," she replied, equally as breathless. Tara grinned and locked their fingers together above Beth's head, effectively pinning her to the wall.

"I promise you, it will be," she heard Beth's ragged intake of breath as she found her way to her neck, sucking, nibbling and biting as if she had done it a thousand times before.

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><p>When she came by Chris' shop a little less than a month later, he looked beyond terrified. Then she smiled reassuringly and he seemed to untense a little. She spent a long time looking for the perfect bouquet and when she finally did, she made her way towards Chris at the register.<p>

"Can I get one of those little cards with it?" She asked, eyeing the small golden cardboard pieces curiously. Chris grabbed one and uncapped his pen, looking at her expectantly. He still looked nervous.

"Make it out to Beth."

He raised his brows in surprise and wrote Beth in neat writing before tying it to the bouquet. He smiled as he handed them to her, gratefully accepting as she paid.

"Congratulations. And good luck," he said, smiling even wider, causing her to do so as well.

"You too," she winked.

Now, if only she could be around Beth without being distracted by the younger woman's delicious lips for long enough to give the flowers to her. It was after all their three week anniversary, and the brunette from the bar, who turned out to be Beth's sister, Maggie, told her it was a big deal to Beth.

Tara had to admit she was nervous as she knocked on their door with a bouquet behind her bag and a necklace in her back pocket.


End file.
